The Long Road Home
by Mystearica676
Summary: Emma and Mr. Gold's roadtrip to find Baelfire leads to some interesting discoveries. How will the citizens of Storybrooke react to Gold's son, especially a certain someone who still has a favor to call in? Emma's caught between a rocky past relationship and a hard pirate. Chaos ensues. A sequel to my story A Good Pirate is Hard (to Find). Read that one first!
1. Emma and Gold's Excellent Adventure

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, ABC Studios, Disney, and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a sequel to my story A Good Pirate is Hard (to Find). It is highly recommended that you read that one first, if not for continuity's sake, then at least because it's fun. Hopefully? Anyway, this story is set after the episode In the Name of the Brother but before the new episode Tiny which will air tonight (yay!). I have taken some liberties, of course. Though not as many as Hook, who you will notice is absent in this first chapter. Sorry! It was necessary, don't keelhaul me. Now, again, I'm shutting up!

**Chapter One: Emma and Gold's Excellent Adventure  
**

"We're lost."

"We are _not _lost, Ms. Swan. I know exactly where we are."

"On the Earth is not specific enough." Emma imagined that Gold was about to kill her five minutes ago, so she added, "Do you want me to ask for directions at the next gas station?" which of course did nothing help to improve the man's mood.

"No, that will not be necessary, as we are. Not. Lost." This last volley came from between gritted teeth.

Emma smiled, and wondered what it might take to snap that last thin thread of patience. She had several hours to find out.

XXXXX

The trip had started off on a bad foot thanks to Emma's casually flung barb regarding Hook, and the atmosphere had steadily declined from there.

People who could barely tolerate each other during the best of times were never meant to share a small car for hours. Although they (Gold) had ultimately decided to take Gold's luxe town car instead of Emma's peasant-mobile, after five minutes it had already seemed smaller than a Mini Cooper. What space they had was taken up by Emma's backpack, Gold's ridiculously huge wooden box, and icy cold silence.

Emma's second mistake was suggesting they listen to some music. Gold agreed readily enough with a nod of his head, but by the time Emma fished out her iPod, he had already turned the radio to some ungodly station that played nothing but Wagnerian operas as far as Emma could tell. She soldiered on for twenty minutes, but when there was still no end in sight to what could _not possibly still be the same damned song_, she flicked off the radio. Gold raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Speaking of saying nothing, Emma decided the silent treatment would have to end. She knew Gold loved the sound of his own voice, and while she would not normally be inclined to chat with him, she wanted more information on their mission. She also hated the awkward silence. Why were men such sulky babies?

"Gold, you're going to have to talk to me eventually. I'm sorry I slept with your mortal enemy. There, does that make you feel better?"

The noise Gold made fell somewhere between choking and growling. "Oddly enough, Ms. Swan, that does not make me feel better."

"Well tough, because I'm not sorry anyway." More growling. "Seriously, Gold, get over it. You gave me a super pervy spell and not a lot of time to cast it. Hook was there, it happened, Henry's safe, end of story. Can we move on with our lives? I'd like to talk about the more pressing problem."

Gold relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel and let out a long breath. Get over it indeed. Just another stupid woman; how disappointing. "Putting aside your monumentally asinine decision, to what problem are you referring?"

"The problem of finding your son! I assume you have an idea of where he's living, but do you know what he looks like now? Or what name he goes by? New York is a big city!" Seeing his bleak expression, Emma felt a bit sorry for him, but Gold's customary self-assuredness quickly returned.

"It's all under control, Ms. Swan. My globe will show us where he is. It becomes more detailed the closer it gets to the subject of the blood spell." He indicated the mysterious large box in the backseat with a wave of his hand.

"Like a Google Map," Emma said absently, calculating how many hours were still left on their trip. They had been traveling for about two hours already and were just past Portland.

"Yes, exactly like a Google Map." Gold's cuttingly sarcastic tone jarred Emma out of her calculations. "An ancient, blood-fueled, magical Google Map, the only one of its kind in the worlds. No, Ms. Swan, it is most decidedly _not _like a Google Map. Try to retain a modicum of intelligence, if you please. Or perhaps attain would be the better word."

Emma's eyebrows furrowed as she glared at her odious traveling companion. "Listen up, Rumple. Let's get one thing straight. I'm here to help you recover your son, not to be your whipping boy. I know you're stressed and anxious to find Baelfire, and I get that, but fighting from here to NYC isn't going to make this trip go any faster."

A flash of light reflected off a passing car drew her eye for a second, and when she looked back at Gold, she saw a monster. A scaly, leather-clad, crazy-haired nightmare that radiated trickery and evil. Rumplestiltskin. Shit. As she drew back instinctively against the passenger door, she blinked, and the creature was gone. Gold was sitting there calmly driving, looking as sharp as ever in his expensive suit. The only signs of his continued anger were the tense lines bracketing his mouth.

"Do not call the monster, dearie, if you do not wish him to appear."

Emma swallowed hard, loosening her grip on the door handle. "Yeah… yeah, I got it." She had never seen the real Rumplestiltskin before, and never wanted to again. How did Gold manage to suppress all that evil under his human façade? Or maybe he didn't. Either way, Emma would be perfectly happy living the rest of her life without a repeat of this little performance. Part of her rebelled against being bullied, but a slightly larger part reminded her to pick her battles. This one she could do without. She settled back into her seat and smoothed her sweaty palms down her jeans.

"Can I put on some of my music this time?" she asked, in what she assured herself was a perfectly reasonable and non-combative tone.

"No."

Pick your battles. Pick your battles. Pick your battles... _ARGH!_

And so the silence continued.

XXXXX

One and a half hours and one thoroughly uninteresting lunch at Burger King later, they were driving through Boston. And they were lost.

The city was a twisting labyrinth, and Emma was sure they were no longer headed towards New York. "If you don't want me to ask for directions, maybe we could just buy a map? I'm a great navigator, plenty of experience. I'm actually surprised GPS doesn't come standard with this expensive heap." She stared at the dashboard as if willing a GPS unit to appear.

"Again, I repeat: we are not lost. And we already havea map. We just need to get back onto the highway. Hold on." Gold reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small silver box about the size of a cigarette case. From it, he extracted a slim glass vial containing a murky black liquid. In a move that was at odds with his urbane appearance, he unstoppered the tube with his teeth, spitting the cork out the window.

'He must really be jittery now that we're getting so close to his son,' Emma thought. Then, as Gold drank the contents of the vial and spat _actual freaking fire_ around the interior of the car, she didn't have time to think anymore. She just screamed.

After a long, searingly hot moment, Emma opened her eyes. Clawing her hair out of her face, she looked around wildly. The interior of the car was pristine, and although a slight scent of smoke remained, the flames were gone. As she glanced dazedly out the window at a passing mile marker, she noticed they were headed west down I-90.

"You goddamn crazy bastard!" she yelled, smacking her thigh so as to avoid hitting the driver (always a bad idea, she had learned). "What the hell was that?"

"Just a small teleportation spell. I told you we didn't need directions," he added, unnecessarily smugly in Emma's opinion.

"Well, how about a little warning next time?" she demanded after taking a long drink of her bottled water. She wiped her mouth and looked over at him. She could swear he was laughing on the inside, and it dawned on her that this was perhaps his little retribution for the whole Hook debacle. And if that's the way he wanted to play things… She unwound her pale blue scarf and shook it out with more vigor than the task demanded. "God, it's so hot in here now."

Gold glanced over at the ruckus, and Emma could tell the exact second that his eye caught the angry red scar peeking out from above her black v-neck shirt. And he knew what it was from, too, she could see that from the way his nostrils flared and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He raised his eyes to hers and they were like molten lava, anger simmering hotter than the flames from just a few minutes ago. But he was still himself, and Emma did not fear him. She met his stare and lifted an eyebrow. Touché. He visibly collected himself and returned his attention to navigating the congested traffic.

Emma decided to extend an olive branch. She put her scarf back on. "Ok, so this might be a stupid question, but why didn't we just use that spell to get from Storybrooke to New York City?"

Gold opened his mouth, then closed it. He decided to accept the tentative truce and said instead, "It's not a stupid question. I considered using it, but New York is too far away. The spell only works for short-range teleportation. Plus, as we get further from Storybrooke, my magic weakens. It's simpler to drive and conserve energy. I will likely have to use another spell to locate Bae within the city, since as you pointed out, I don't know what he looks like now as a man." He stopped abruptly, and Emma could tell that it had cost him something to admit that.

Their bickering aside, she truly could sympathize with his desire to see his son again, to apologize for past wrongs, and to move forward towards a hopefully happier future together. Now that Henry was in her life, she couldn't imagine how she had gotten through ten long years without him. Emma reached over and lightly clasped the back of Gold's right hand. Her touch did not linger, but it was heartfelt. She said, "We'll find him, Gold."

He nodded briskly. "I know we will, Ms. Swan."

They spent five minutes in surprisingly companionable silence when Gold suddenly said, "Why don't you check the globe, and see if it's narrowed down the location at all yet."

Emma unclasped her seatbelt and climbed halfway into the backseat to open the wooden box. She pulled the strangest-looking globe she had ever seen back up front with her. It was completely blank but for one streak of dried blood at the top. Gold reached over and put his palm to the smooth surface, and instantly, lines spread out from under his hand forming a map of the American east coast. The dried blood liquefied and ran down, presumably marking the trail to Baelfire. Emma peered closely at the globe, raising it to the window to better see the tiny lettering curving across naming roads and cities. But something seemed off to her. It was almost as if the blood line led back up… Oh no.

"Gold, we have a problem, pull over. Now."

XXXXX

Emma and Gold ignored the honking horns and dull engine roars of the passing cars. They were pulled over in an emergency braking lane, staring dumbfounded at the globe. No matter how long they looked, the information they were seeing did not change.

"He's moving towards Storybrooke." Gold's voice was barely above a whisper, his accent more pronounced than Emma had ever heard. "How… why?"

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Emma offered, but even she didn't believe that. "How do you know he hasn't been traveling up until now, maybe he doesn't live in New York."

"No, he does. Or did, at the very least. If he had been on the move recently, the blood line would have shown his path. But it led firmly to New York City, with no prior trail. That means that whenever he had last traveled, enough time had passed for the lines to weaken and disappear. He was definitely living in New York. The question is, why is he moving now? I suppose it could possibly be a coincidence as you say, but I doubt it." He stared at the globe a moment longer, pinpointing a particular spot. "It doesn't matter how or why, we're going after him. We have to catch up to him before he crosses into the town, if that is indeed where he's headed. Let's go."

Gold reached into his pocket and withdrew the silver case. As he unstoppered another vial, he glanced at Emma, "I don't suppose you'll need a warning this time?"

She sighed and closed her eyes, "Nope. But that doesn't mean I want to see it again." She felt the flames and the heat and the cloying scent of acrid smoke, which, as before, were all gone a moment later.

Emma looked outside and saw that they were about twenty miles outside of Storybrooke. She whistled and was a bit impressed in spite of herself. "That was a pretty big jump, Gold."

Silence. She turned and was alarmed to find the pawnbroker slumped down over the wheel, held up only by his seatbelt. "Gold! Hey, come on, don't do this to me now!" She quickly undid her own seatbelt and reached over to haul the older man up by his suit lapels. She lightly slapped his cheeks a couple of times, then grabbed her water bottle and upended what was left of it over his head.

With a gasp, Gold came to and his hand was around her throat before either of them realized what had happened. Eyes wide, Emma scrabbled ineffectually at his iron grip. He let go immediately and sighed, rubbing his temples. "Sorry."

Emma breathed deeply through her nose and croaked, "Never mind that, what happened to you?"

Gold loosened his tie – '_He loosened his tie, he must be dying!' _Emma thought – and he said, "Too much repetitive magic. I shouldn't have used the teleportation spell twice in the same day, especially not over such a long distance. But it doesn't matter." He shoved her away from him and fished the globe out from under Emma's legs where it had fallen. "It shows that he's nearby, perhaps at a rest stop. We'll go left at the next fork in the road."

They buckled back in and resumed their journey.

Emma took a moment to chuckle quietly at Gold's sodden state. She didn't expect she'd see him like that again. She was shocked when he smiled and said, "Really, Ms. Swan. Is it quite that hilarious?"

She laughed louder then and replied, "Absolutely, Gold."

XXXXX

They pulled into a BP gas station outside of town about ten minutes later, Gold having driven the last fifteen miles at demonic speeds. It seemed pretty obvious now that, yes, Baelfire was headed directly towards Storybrooke.

Gold tore off his seatbelt and jumped from the car. Emma followed close behind. They both glanced around at the various pumps, trying to spot a lone figure that could be the prodigal son. Time seemed to slow as the glass doors of the convenience center swung open and a tall, stocky figure in a green canvas jacket and dark shades emerged.

Gold sucked in his breath and took a small involuntary step forwards. He didn't need another spell after all; he would recognize his boy anywhere. "Baelfire?" he said in a broken, hopeful voice.

The figure stopped, jaw dropping. He whipped off his sunglasses and cried, "Dad?!" Then a moment later, "Emma?!"

Emma had never ridden a roller coaster before, but suddenly she knew this was what a long, fast drop must feel like. Somewhere in the universe stars exploded, and she saw the white lights dancing in front of her eyes. She leaned back against the hood of the car.

"Neal."


	2. The Nature of the Beast

**Chapter Two: The Nature of the Beast**

"My boy!" Gold stumbled forward hurriedly, losing his cane in the process. He threw his arms around Neal, who looked shell-shocked. "Bae, I found you. After all these years… I'm so sorry, Bae. I'm so sorry."

As Gold rambled on and continued clutching at his son, Neal automatically returned his hug. "Dad." Twenty-eight years fell away as Neal closed his eyes and grabbed at Gold's jacket, crumpling the expensive material in his fists. "Papa…"

Emma watched the reunion and thought it was ironic that Gold's long-lost heart was finally mending just as hers was breaking again over the same person. She pressed her palms into her eyes, trying to calm a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

That small movement caught Neal's attention and suddenly the past snapped firmly back into place, shattering the moment. "No!" he shouted, pushing his father away. "Emma!" He ran over to her, leaving Gold on the verge of falling over.

He dragged Emma away from the hood of the car into a bone-crushing embrace, careful to keep his father in his line of sight. "God, Emma." He buried his nose in her hair. "Why are you here with him? Did he hurt you?" He ran his hands over her face and neck as if to make sure she was unharmed. Memories of their poor mute maid, dead now for ages, raced through his mind.

Meanwhile, the whirlwind whipped into frenzy, then exploded outward. Emma jabbed her arms into Neal's chest, shoving him back several steps. "Don't touch me, you son of a bitch! The only one who hurt me was you!" She put a decade's worth of heartache into a right cross that sent Neal reeling back against the gas terminal with enough force to knock loose one of the pumps. It wriggled to their feet like a snake. Emma grabbed Neal by the lapel and hit him again, this time into a garbage can. "I went to jail, and where were you? _Where were you?"_

At this point, several things happened at once. The garbage can crashed into an SUV one terminal over, causing the woman sitting in the passenger seat to jump out swearing. A gas station employee came running out of the convenience store waving his arms and yelling angrily, followed closely by an equally furious customer, presumably the owner of the newly battle-scarred Range Rover. And Gold's brain finally processed that yes, his son had rejected him, yes, he was being pummeled by Emma Swan, and no, neither of those things was all right with him. His last frayed threads snapped.

If they'd been paying attention, the only indication Neal and Emma would have had of the approaching danger was the purple mist swirling up around Gold, hiding his hunched figure from view. The three nearby humans were afforded no such warning, having instantly frozen in place seconds beforehand. The gas pump stopped writhing on the ground, and a bird launching off the billboard advertising current fuel prices remained suspended with wings outspread.

A booted foot emerged from the purple cloak of magic and stepped firmly onto Gold's cane, snapping it in half. Rumplestiltskin spared the favored accessory not one glance, instead focusing on the blonde harpy beating his son.

In a flash, Emma found herself grasping at air as she was yanked away from Neal by the scruff of her jacket. Her hair was caught up with the fabric in an unyielding grip and her eyes watered from the sudden pain.

"_Don't you be touching my boy, Swan!" _Rumplestiltskin roared, flinging Emma away as if she weighed no more than a basket of wool. She fell and rolled several time on the rough asphalt before coming to a dead stop in the middle of the station parking lot.

Neal's surprise at not being punched anymore was instantly overshadowed by fear when he realized what had happened. "No!" there was no mistaking the horror in his tone, and even Rumplestiltskin was brought up short in his rage. His boy was scared of him. Again.

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin said in a quieter voice. He crouched down to Neal's level and gently lifted his son by his shoulders to help him stand. "Are you hurt at all?"

"Papa." Neal choked on the word. It seemed so at odds with his New York accent in this world that had never been home. "What have you done?" Calmly, softly, so as not to set off the monster lurking just behind his father's reptilian eyes, Neal pulled away. He walked towards Emma who was lying in the same motionless heap. But she would be all right. She _had _to be all right. It wasn't possible that he should lose her again so soon, and because of his father of all people. He refused to accept that.

With extreme care, Neal knelt down and turned Emma over. He winced when he saw her multiple scrapes, but was relieved to see her breathing. He gathered her into his arms and rose.

"Son, what the hell are you doing with that woman? Can you not see that she's deranged? She attacked you for no reason! She might be under a geas." Rumplestiltskin stalked forward, hand outstretched and already gathering magical power.

"No!" Neal barked. "She's fine, she's not under any spell. And she's got plenty of reasons for hating me. Trust me, a couple punches are nothing compared to what I owe her." He looked down at her. "I totally screwed up her life… It's a long story."

By now, Rumplestiltskin had begun to put two and two together. He stopped abruptly, hand dropping, power dissipating. Soon, all traces of magic had left him and he was Mr. Gold again. He cocked his head to the side and regarded his son and the vexing woman in his arms. Impossible. Or was it? He reached out and plucked his cane out of thin air, whole and undamaged. He clasped both hands over the top and let it bear his weight. "Son, I have all the time in the world."

But Neal decided that Emma needed a doctor, the sooner the better. Their conversation could wait until she had been seen to. So they bundled her into the backseat of Gold's town car and drove off towards Storybrooke General Hospital. It would be about an hour or so before Gold remembered to release the other people imprisoned at the gas station.

It was an oddly silent ride into town, each man lost in his own thoughts. They had so much to discuss, years of bitterness and sadness to resolve, but for now it was enough that they were simply together again. Gold's hand occasionally left the wheel to touch Neal's knee or stroke his hair, reassuring himself that his son was really there. Neal returned the quiet affection and stared at his father often out of the corner of his eyes.

Gold supposed it had been a long time since his son had seen him as a human. He also did not miss the looks Neal sent into the backseat. He speculated and calculated, spinning out the possibilities like so much golden thread. Could he be Henry's father? What had caused him to abandon Emma? Or had it been the other way around? Did he even know of the boy's existence? And if it was all so, then Henry might very well be the result of true love twice over, making him _extremely _interesting to Gold to say the least. He'd be integral in the upcoming war against Cora. He could possibly even be the key to getting them all back home to the Enchanted Lands.

Gold said nothing of his thoughts out loud, merely smiled reassuringly at Neal whenever he caught his eye. There would be time enough for all of that later. For now, they'd take things one step at a time.

He soon pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital and Neal was out of the car before he had even put it into park. Gold followed his son and held the doors for him as Neal carried Emma inside.

Two nurses immediately converged on them. A gurney was brought, Dr. Whale was sent for, and Emma was rushed off. Neal watched her disappear around a corner and Gold watched Neal.

"Bae," he said as gently as he could, "I think we have time for your story now."

XXXXX

When Emma awoke, she was surprised to see Dr. Whale looming over her, checking a chart by the side of a bed. She bolted upright, snagging her IV tube painfully on the edge of the arm rest. "Ouch! What the hell?" She was confused for a moment as she peered down and saw her hospital gown. Then, she noticed all the bandaged scratches on her hands and arms and remembered. Her eyes widened, "That goddamned Crocodile! I'm going to skin his scaly ass." She dropped her head into her hands dizzily, "Crap, I sound like Hook now… Hook. He should have finished Gold off a long time ago. He's totally useless." She flopped back against the pillow, and turned towards the doctor. "I'll kill Hook, too. Then Gold, again. Maybe Neal… Not you, though, don't worry."

Whale was regarding her with vaguely amused alarm, "Yes, ok, settle down, Sheriff. You took quite a nasty knock to the head. The disorientation is normal, but you need to get some rest and let the fluids and medication do their work. If all goes well, we'll have you out of here by tomorrow morning." He sounded like it couldn't come soon enough.

Emma agreed. "Yeah, I don't think so." She sat up and tugged out her IV needle, ignoring Whale's 'Hey, don't do that!' and slapping his interfering hands away. She rose a bit unsteadily and made her way over to the plastic armchair where her clothes lay neatly folded. She pulled on her jeans and began to untie the lacings of her gown. She called over her shoulder, "So are you going to turn around, or are you looking for my secret tattoo?"

Whale huffed and glanced away, "Sherriff Swan, I really must recommend that you stay here at least another night under observation. We can't be responsible for anything that happens to you if you leave now. I don't think you realize how serious your situation is!"

Emma laughed bitterly and finished zipping up her boots. She grabbed her jacket and threw it on. "Oh, trust me, Whale, I do know. It's seriously messed up, seriously unbelievable. I'm seriously going to kill someone. Does that about cover it?"

Emma yanked her hair out from under her jacket collar only to have it catch on something else. She reached up and felt another butterfly bandage on the back of her neck. Maybe she had been hit harder than she remembered. She sighed. "Look, I need to get out of here. I have a lot to think about. But I appreciate what you did for me, thank you."

Whale turned around and noted her tight features and pale complexion. "Well, there's no need for thanks. We all just did our jobs. But try to take it easy for the next couple days, at the very least. No strenuous activity. No killing anyone for at least forty-eight hours, ok?"

He smiled and Emma figured he wasn't such a bad guy after all. Of course that might just be the schnapps talking, but considering she didn't have a lot of people currently on her side, she'd take it. She shook his hand and walked out of the room.

Her attempt to organize her riotous thoughts was stonewalled by the sight of Neal and Gold sitting side by side in the small reception area. Emma steeled her resolve and temporarily banked her temper.

"Emma!" Neal jumped up from the uncomfortable-looking chair and rushed over to her. Gold got to his feet more slowly and glared at her with hooded eyes.

Neal stopped short of hugging her, which was a smart idea, all things considered. He merely looked at her, taking in each injury sympathetically and sorrowfully. He also noticed that the years had been kind to her, and that she still looked much the same. "Hey," he said awkwardly shifting a little closer, "Are you ok?"

Emma ignored Neal completely and looked over his shoulder at their silent observer, "You and I are not finished, Gold, not by a long shot." He merely nodded, as if this was expected.

She went to step around Neal, and whipped her head up to stare at him when he made a move to grab her shoulder. He drew back.

"Emma, come on, you can't just ignore me. We have to talk," he said.

"You've been ignoring me perfectly fine for ten years, Neal. Or whatever the hell your name is. I can't risk punching you again otherwise your dear old dad might try to throw me through the hospital window, and then things would get ugly. So yeah, we have things to talk about, more than you know. But not now. For now, I'm going to go for a nice long walk to think about whether the town would still let me be Sheriff if I ran over both of you with my patrol car. If you're lucky, I might even calm down a little. Now _get out of my way." _

Her tone of voice was glacial and Neal flinched as she marched out the door. "That went well... Wait," he looked around the waiting room incredulously, "Did she say Sheriff?!" He miserably sank down into his chair, rubbing his hand over his face, "That's just perfect."

"So you're letting her go." Gold observed.

"What else can I do? She doesn't want to talk to me. I don't blame her, she's pissed. I'll just let her walk some of it off and come see me when she's ready."

"Yes, boy, but there's a lot we didn't have a chance to discuss earlier, you and I. So the real question is, who might she be going to see right now?"

Neal lifted his head, and his eyes were bloodshot. "What do you mean by that?"

XXXXX

It was dark outside, and the cool air was refreshing. But Emma's head was still pounding and her throat was dry. Her multiple cuts ached and she could see lovely bruises beginning to peek out around the bandages. "Great, the town Sheriff looks like a zombie." She felt drained from her encounter with Neal and from Gold's attack. She wondered if maybe she should have stayed in the hospital after all.

No, she had to keep going, keep walking, think of anything and everything except what this whole disaster meant for her relatively peaceful life in Storybrooke. If reconciling with her long-lost fairy tale parents and working to keep her son safe from a psychopathic queen bent from a cursed realm could be defined as relatively peaceful. Whatever. The point was that she needed-

"Hook!" She nearly tripped over her own traitorous feet when she realized she had ended up at the docks, on the pier housing the Jolly Roger no less. And there was the ship's fine captain himself, just about to disappear up the invisible gangplank.

Having heard her exclamation, Hook spun around, dropping the canvas sack he had been carrying. "Lass!" He surreptitiously tried to nudge the sack further away.

Emma would bet dollars to donuts there was something illegal in it. But she shook her head, feeling dizzy again. She was so tired. And she didn't want to care about whatever he was smuggling aboard, or about Neal and his no doubt forthcoming barrage of excuses, or about what a fun new grandpa her son had gained in Rumplestiltskin.

To hell with it all.

She stalked over to Hook, kicked the canvas bag out of the way, and kissed the very startled pirate upwards until they both vanished from sight.

XXXXX

There was nothing gentle in their kiss this time, no playfulness or soft seduction. Emma kissed Hook viciously, all teeth and fire, and he reveled in her aggression. He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, clutching at his wide leather collar for balance. He slammed her into the main mast and gouged a long trail from the top of her head to her hips down the wood with his hook. Later, he would consider it a fitting little memento of their encounter. Fisting his hand into her hair, he bared her neck. He dragged his lips under her ear, then down to her collarbone, pausing to lick the scar he had left there only a short while ago.

"Emma," he whispered, and felt her shiver. "What are you doing?"

She bent to run her wicked tongue over Hook's earring and his hand tightened in her hair. "If you don't know that by now, then I'm wasting my time here."

She straightened her legs and made as if to leave, but he pressed her back until she could barely breathe much less move. They stood there panting, and he peered at her through the darkness.

"Oh trust me, lass, I know _what _we're doing, and I'm all for it. I always have been, you know that. But why now? Is this for another spell?" He dared her to say that it was.

"No," she snapped, "Don't be stupid! This is… I don't know what the hell this is, Hook, ok? It's just angry sex! How about that?" When in doubt, try the truth.

He stared at her, then loosed her hair and ran his hand under her jacket and shirt instead, smoothing over hot skin. She arched her back, and he chuckled. "Good enough for me, love. But remember, it's Killian." He captured her lips in another fierce kiss and she responded instantly.

They fought their way out of their jackets, and soon shirts, belts, and shoes littered the path from the deck to the Captain's cabin.

Kicking the door shut behind him, Hook led Emma towards the bed but froze when lantern light washed over her features.

"What the devil!" he crowded her further under the light, sweeping back her hair until all her injuries were laid bare. He cupped one of her hands in his own and traced his hook over the bandages. He slowly followed the bandages up her arms, then turned her around to look at the back of her neck. She stood quietly and let him.

Though she was eager to continue where they had left off, Emma sensed he wouldn't be satisfied until he catalogued the multiple cuts and scrapes. She didn't want to dwell on it, and so she tried to make light of the situation, "Hey, it's really not as bad as it looks. You should see the other guy!"

"Quiet," he ordered darkly, in a tone of voice that must have frightened a hundred crewmembers in its day. Once he was finished with his examination, he raised his head and she was surprised at the anger in his expression.

"I don't care about the circumstances. Who did this?" Before she could even open her mouth, he continued, "Was it the Crocodile?"

She didn't like the distinct flavor of murder in his words. This was her fight, damn it! So she said, "No, of course not. It was someone else entirely." A half-assed try at best, and it didn't work.

"Liar." He bent to kiss her far more gently this time, but Emma fought him, desperate to get back their earlier edge. She needed an outlet, not a lover.

Hook let her deepen the kiss, then he pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "I was going to kill him anyway, you know. But it would have been cold comfort after all these years. Now, I have a reason to truly enjoy the thought of it again."

Emma's eyebrows furrowed and she glared at him. "Killian…" she warned, but he silenced her with a quick kiss.

He bent to skim her jeans over her hips and down her legs slowly, checking for additional injuries. Finding none, he seemed satisfied. He tugged off his own pants with far less care, flinging them away as he arose.

Nearly naked, it was impossible for Emma to ignore her attraction to the man. She had no shields left except those she held internally, and she willed herself to let them go. She was small compared to him, but still she felt strong. This was her choice, without the convenience of a spell this time around. She felt free. And if it turned out to be a mistake, then so be it. It was hers to make.

She unsnapped her bra. "You're not killing Gold, Killian. Not in my town."

He leaned up to extinguish the lantern, and the last thing she saw clearly was his sharp grin.

"We shall see."


	3. Three's a Crowd

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies for the delay! Originally, this was to be the final chapter, but there were too many loose ends to tie up and it grew too long. So this is really chapter three, part one. The good news is, much of the next chapter is already written. As always, thank you to my reviewers. Your kind words keep me going! *hugs*

**Chapter Three: Three's a Crowd**

Pale light streaming through the window woke Emma just after dawn. She had only slept for a few hours, but she felt rested and her mind was clearer than the night before. She lay with her head on Hook's arm and she could feel him breathing lightly into her hair, still asleep. His body heat warmed her back comfortably and she stretched, feeling like a lazy cat. She stared sideways at his hook, then reached out to run her finger down the smooth curve. He stirred, waking, and snaked his other arm around her belly, pulling her tighter against him. He grabbed her wandering hand.

"Careful, love, you don't want to hurt yourself on my admittedly irresistible weapon."

She snorted quietly, picturing his wicked grin. "That was terrible. Probably the worst innuendo I've ever heard."

His smile widened. "Well, don't let it be said that Captain Killian Jones, Lord of the Seas, allowed any woman to leave his side with anything less than the best of all experiences. So." He rolled her over and under him, dragging the sheet away from her with his hook. "Let me make it up to you."

Emma raised an eyebrow, "Those are pretty big words."

"Yes, they quite match my big-"

She laughed out loud and gave in to temptation, wrapping her arms around him. "Ok, _Lord of the Seas_, are you done talking yet?"

He bowed his head deferentially, kissing her collarbone in the process. "As it pleases my lady." Then he looked up at her, winked, and kissed his way lower.

XXXXX

"Hook." Emma poked the pirate in the shoulder, trying to wake him again later on. "Get up, Hook." Poke, poke, poke. Nothing. How did the man ever manage to captain a ship when he slept late like the dead?

She decided to try something different. She kissed the side of his mouth, whispering "Killian." And he smiled, the bastard!

"Now that's more like it, love," he said, opening his eyes. "You are an insatiable minx. I can learn to live with that." He went in for another kiss but she pulled away, reaching down to fish her boots out from underneath the bed. He noticed she was mostly dressed and grimaced. "That's cold, Swan."

"What was in that bag, Hook? The one you were smuggling aboard last night."

"Ah, I see you're done with me again. I feel so used." He sighed dramatically.

Emma started tugging on her boots. "Stop stalling. The bag. What's in it?"

"You're a hard woman."

She shrugged. "True, but only about eighty percent of the time."

Hook grinned, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her neck. "Aye, lass, and it's the other twenty percent I've been dreaming about lately."

She turned around, kneeling on the bed. "I'm serious, Hook. Knowing you, there's something terrible in there, so just tell me. Then I can either arrest you and haul you off to jail or go find my son and take him to breakfast. I'd prefer the latter, but I guess it all depends." She gave him her best badass stare.

He smirked.

She raised a pair of handcuffs and jingled them at him.

He whistled. "Well, where the bloody hell were those last night? We could have used them!"

"HOOK!"

"Swan, despite your sterling opinion of me, it's nothing terrible. Truly."

"Why don't you just tell me, then, and let me be the judge?" She got up and shoved the handcuffs back into her jacket pocket. She crossed her arms and leveled a withering look at him, a task made more difficult by the fact that the man was still enticingly naked. "You know, I could just go look for myself."

"You wouldn't dare. You're too upstanding." He said it as if the very word left a bad taste in his mouth.

But in the next moment, she whirled around and was gone. Hook stared dumbfounded at the swinging door for a second, then grabbed his trousers, struggling to pull them on one-handed and run after her at the same time. "Damn it, Swan!"

Emma heard his bellow, but paid it no attention. She was peering down the gangplank, searching for the canvas sack. There it was, hanging perilously close to the edge of the walkway. Hmm. She must have kicked it harder than she thought.

She started to head down towards the bag when a bare arm grabbed her around the waist and swung her backwards. Kicking out her feet, she found no leverage as Hook held her easily off the ground. "Ah ah ah, Swan, that's not very nice." He dodged her head-butt and walked her over to the side railing, bending down to scoop up her legs with his other arm for good measure. "Well, it was good to have known you, but I can't stand nosy women." He made as if to heave her overboard.

"I swear to God, Hook, I am going to claw your eyes out!" she yelled, but her voice was muffled against his shoulder. Also ruining her intended menacing effect was the death grip she had on his neck.

"Yes," he choked out, "but in order to do that, you'll have to let go of me." He laughed and drew her back onto more solid ground. He dropped her legs, then grabbed her hands when she went to shove at his chest.

"You're an ass."

He kissed her knuckles. "You love it." He walked down the gangplank and snatched up the canvas sack, then deposited it at her feet. "Since you asked so nicely, I shall allow it." He folded his arms and looked at her expectantly.

Emma rolled her eyes and bent to open the bag.

Any lingering playfulness vanished the instant Emma looked in the bag. Her voice was cold and sharp as it broke through the sudden silence.

"Hook, those can't possibly be…" she swallowed reflexively, mouth dry.

In contrast, Hook's demeanor was even merrier than before. He had a mischievous and self-satisfied look that Emma didn't care for.

"Oh, but they are indeed, love." He reached into the bag and drew out a fistful of tiny glassine objects, then let them trickle back through his fingers. They clicked together and tumbled down like marbles.

Emma snatched one out of his hand before it could fall and held it up to the light. There was no doubt. It had to be one of the fabled magic beans. She'd never seen one living, but it greatly resembled the dried-out remnant she'd seen around the giant's neck.

"But how? I thought there were no beans left in either of our worlds. Where did you get so many?"

Hook chose his words carefully. "Well, where else? From a giant, of course. Granted, I may not strictly have had his permission to, ah, _borrow_ quite so many, but I assure you there are plenty more where these came from. Think about it, all the realms at our fingertips! What grand adventures await the intrepid traveler?"

Excitedly, he swooped in and gave Emma a quick, fierce kiss then pulled back, deftly plucking the bean from her slack grip in the process.

Emma realized this half a second too late, and before she could even work up a proper righteous indignation, the man slung the sack over his shoulder and walked quickly toward his cabin without a backwards glance.

"Intrepid traveler, my ass. Thieving pirate. Conniving snake." Emma continued her litany of insults under her breath until Hook returned, now wearing his customary outfit.

"Ok, Hook, cut the crap," she said. "The giant told us himself: all the magic beans were destroyed. So where did these come from, and what, exactly, did you have to do to get them? And this time, try the truth, or there's a jail cell with your name on it waiting."

Hook winked at her. "Kinky. But your fantasy will have to wait, Swan. Why would I waste time telling you when I can just show you?" He threw an arm around her and led her down the wooden walkway.

Emma hesitated slightly, torn between retrieving the canvas bag and throwing the pirate in jail preemptively or following into God-knows-what potential disaster. She looked up at the beautiful, cloudless day and sighed. "All right, lead on."

Hook squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit."

"But we have to hurry," Emma continued. "I want to have time to grab breakfast with Henry before he has to go to school."

"Not a problem, love, it's naught but a short detour."

They didn't notice their observer standing in the shadow of a nearby charter fishing schedule. When the figure stepped out to block their path, Hook and Emma nearly crashed into him, so sudden was his appearance.

"Neal, what the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone for now." Emma crossed her arms defensively, dislodging Hook's arm from her shoulder in the process.

Undaunted, the pirate dropped his hand smoothly to the hilt of his sword instead, eyeing the newcomer with feigned boredom.

Neal, in turn, regarded Emma's companion with decidedly more anger and disgust. He had noticed their cozy descent, and Neal's temper got the better of him when he recognized the black-clad man.

"I followed you to try to apologize again, only to lose you after running halfway around town. You just disappeared into thin air! I thought something had happened to you! Then you reappear hours later, arm in arm with _Captain Hook?_ Are you kidding me, Emma? First my father, then Hook? Is there any monster from my world you haven'tgotten friendly with?"

Emma's mouth opened in outrage, but Hook beat her to it. Upon hearing the stranger's last words, the pirate's mood shifted from idle curiosity to deadly interest. In one swift movement, he grabbed the man by his collar and pressed his hook against his throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

"And just who, exactly, would your father be?" he hissed, twisting the weapon slightly.

XXXXX

Hook ignored Emma's shouts, giving the man named Neal his undivided attention. "Tell me, boy. Is it the Crocodile? Don't bother lying. You have his look about you."

Neal, eyes wide, was pulling away from the lunatic Hook as much as possible, but he didn't get far. He thought quickly. He was sure he'd been in worse spots in New York, though none immediately sprang to mind.

"What the hell are you talking about, man? What crocodile? Lemme go!" Neal attempted to shrug out of his coat to loosen Hook's grip, but the pirate merely twisted his free hand savagely, cutting off his captive's air flow. "Tsk tsk, mate, that wasn't very smart. Now tell me, are you the Crocodile's prodigal son?"

Emma could see that Neal was both choking and bleeding and Hook had a crazy gleam in his eye. The fight was like a culmination of her life's mistakes, past and present, all jumbled into this ridiculous nightmare. How hard was it to find at least one normal man?

Pretty damn hard, apparently.

She darted forward, and grabbed Hook's arm. She moved her hands forward along his taut muscles, feeling his anger, and closed them around his own white-knuckled grip. She shoved herself into the pirate's line of sight as much as possible.

"Hook. Killian. Listen to me, don't be stupid. You can't just kill this man. It's not right."

If anything, Hook squeezed harder. Neal was turning a startling shade of pale blue, and he liked it. "If this is Crocodile's son, and I think he is…" Another trickle of blood ran down Neal's neck. "Then yes, I can and most definitely will kill him. Belle wasn't nearly enough. That _monster _has to lose it all, his life has to have no meaning. Only then can I end it and be truly be avenged."

Neal's eyes started to roll back in his head and his knees sagged, Hook supporting more and more of his weight. Emma grew desperate to reach some light at the end of the pirate's tormented black soul. "No, it'll never be enough. You have to stop. Just listen to me! _Please_, Killian, let him go. Listen to me at least this one time."

Hook was relentless. "This has nothing to do with you, Swan."

Emma blinked hard, refusing to allow any tears. Life just sucked sometimes. "Yes, it does."

She said nothing more, but her voice caught Hook's attention, and he slid his gaze over to hers. Whatever he glimpsed in that moment startled him. He saw past the legal obligations of the town Sheriff, the moral compulsions of a decent human woman, and saw something primal. He loosened his grip, letting Neal slump to the ground.

"Emma…" Hook reached for her, but she stepped aside and the moment was broken. He sought to grab it back, sensing the importance of whatever it was she _wasn't _saying. "Who is this man to you?"

Emma ducked her head briefly, and when she looked back, the usual mask was in place. Calm, cool, and collected was her middle name. Mostly.

"An old boyfriend that I haven't seen him in a long time and frankly could have gone without seeing ever again. But if you kill him here in broad daylight in cold blood, I'd have to arrest you. Or at least try. And I don't think either of us would enjoy that, trust me. He hasn't seen his father in literally hundreds of years, now's not the time to drag him into your vendetta. Not in my town. If you want Gold, go after him yourself. Stop being a coward and using other people to get to him."

They glared at each other.

Hook tried again. "You're hiding something, Swan. Stop preaching and tell me why you're so desperate I spare this miserable worm's life. If not for love, then why? Tell me or I might reconsider and just run him through here and now."

Emma raked a hand through her hair. She looked over to her star-crossed first love and actually felt sorry for him. He deserved to find out first, but this was a delicate situation. "Fine, Hook, you win. Let's go back to the ship where we can talk in private."

"No!" the two men shouted simultaneously.

Neal was rising to his feet, massaging his throat with one hand and looking daggers at the pirate. "You're not going anywhere with that psycho, Emma."

Hook stared him down, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter, little man." He transferred his focus to Emma. "I'm not letting him out of my sight, Swan."

Emma wanted to rip her hair out, she was so frustrated. These men were driving her crazy, and she didn't have patience for any more of their nonsense. Enough was enough.

She stomped over to Neal and walked him backwards until he bumped against a park bench and sat down, startled. "I swear to God, if you don't stay _right here_ until I get back, I will never speak to you again. Ever. Do you hear me, Neal? I could use my handcuffs, but I trust that you realize you owe me at least this much. Stay. Here." He nodded, albeit grudgingly, and she was satisfied.

Meanwhile, Hook had been enjoying the entertaining spectacle of Emma browbeating Neal so much that he failed to notice her intention until she was standing in front of him, giving him the same angry look. "No, Swan," he insisted with anger of his own. "I'm not leaving him here. What if he escapes? This is my chance!"

She didn't back down. "Hook, does it even remotely look like he wants to run away? Obviously, it's all I can do to keep him from following us! Will you just do me the simple courtesy of coming with me so I can explain a thing or two in the privacy of your cabin? Which, by the way, I will never visit again in any capacity if you don't shut up and come with me!" Yes, she had gone there. She wasn't proud of her method, but if it got Hook to listen to her for five minutes, then she would have to deal with it.

Hook looked at her askance and his voice held resigned admiration, "You never fail to surprise me, Swan."

She started walking up the gangplank, Hook trailing behind her. "Hold on to that thought," she told him.

XXXXX

While Neal cooled his heels on the bench outside, Emma told Hook the whole story: meeting Neal, her teenage crime spree, the betrayal, secretly having Henry in prison. She finished by telling him about the hospital and winding up in front of the Jolly Roger, then waited for his reaction. The script read like a TV drama, she realized, but Hook didn't seem scandalized. In fact, he was oddly quiet.

He was leaning against the window, looking out over the waters. She sat on his bed with her knees drawn up under her chin, studying him. He was tense, she could tell, as he absorbed the fact that her son was related to his mortal enemy by blood. He gripped the windowsill so hard that his blunt nails dug into the woodwork.

Emma thought about what it would be like to fight Hook again, for real this time. To save Henry, she would kill him. That much was certain. But she realized that his death might just break her heart. He had grown… important to her. She had felt attraction to him from the very beginning, but this warmer companionship was new and fragile. She didn't think she was falling in love with him. Or maybe just a little. She told herself she should have picked a better man the second time around. Hook was bloodthirsty and troubled, but he'd shown kindness in surprising moments, like when he'd saved Aurora's heart. He cared for her, she knew that, but to what extent? She was suddenly anxious to find out.

She uncurled from the bed and walked over to him, her steps measured and deliberate. "Hook."

His eyes opened. When had he closed them? He turned to look at her, and she seemed vulnerable yet determined. He took in her many cuts and bruises and knew that was her nature. Damn this vexatious woman! Were all women so much trouble, or was he just lucky enough to find the ones that were? A passionate runaway, an evil queen, a calculating enchantress, and a heroic mother. These were the women that had dictated his life for centuries, across worlds. He sighed. Barmaids were so much simpler.

He knew what she wanted to hear. "Swan, I'm not going after your son."

Emma felt such a rush of relief that she felt lightheaded. She went and sat down the armchair behind his desk. "Thank you, Hook," she whispered, cradling her head in her hands.

Concerned, he followed her and gripped her shoulder. "Come now, Emma, did you really think I would harm a child? I'm not evil!"

He leaned down to hear her quietly mumble something that sounded suspiciously like "Pan" and he scowled. "That flying pest is not a child. He is even older than me, with an experienced and wicked soul. He just looks young because of fairy enchantment. And you should see him handle a sword! He's a menace."

Hook realized Emma's shoulders were shaking and he kneeled next to her chair, brushing her hair away from her face. "Don't cry, love," he said tenderly.

She raised her hands and he realized she was laughing. Laughing! At him! He glared at her, affronted. "Something funny, Swan?" He started to rise.

Emma's laughter faded as she pulled him back down to her seated level. "Don't be mad. It's just, you sounded so cute complaining about that boy."

"He's not a-!"

She hugged him tightly. "Anyway, thank you. Seriously. For not making Henry part of your vengeance quest. I know it can't be easy for you to be around Gold's family, but I really don't want to fight you over it. Henry's my son, Hook. I would die for him. And I would kill for him."

He saw the truth of it in her eyes, and nodded. "I can respect that, love. But I've thought about it and decided that Gold's family is not my target. Gold himself will pay for what he did, although I can put that revenge aside while we deal with Cora." She smiled brilliantly at him, and he felt as if he'd made the right decision for once in his life. "But I _will _confront Gold eventually. Make no mistake of that, Swan. Your son's grandfather or not, he will answer for his past."

Emma rose and hauled him up with her. She kissed him for a long moment, then stepped away. "One battle at a time, Hook."

She started walking towards the door and he gazed at the sway of her hips. Not a bad bargain, all in all, he mused. Then she looked over her shoulder and said, "You know this means you have to leave Neal alone, too, right?"

Hook swore and hurried after her, "I never said that, Swan!"


	4. Never Say Never

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies for another longer-than-anticipated delay! But I am making up for it with a ridiculously lengthy chapter. I really should have split this up further, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Let me thank everyone for their kind reviews, especially those who went above and beyond to review each individual chapter. It is _incredibly_ appreciated! You guys humble me and keep me going, and for that I thank you. And now, buckle up; it's a long ride to the end, but I hope you enjoy it!

**CHAPTER FOUR: Never Say Never**

"Oh, Hook, you were absolutely right! Look at all those tiny beanstalks. I can't believe I doubted you for even a second. Darling, let me make it up to you. Let's grab a handful of beans, go back to your magnificent ship, and sail away to parts unknown where I shall shower you with kisses and undying love."

Neal looked like he wanted to throw up. He was already severely regretting his decision to go with Emma and Hook to see the beanstalks.

Emma merely shook her head. "I don't sound like that. And crowing about being right isn't attractive."

The pirate grinned and dropped down an octave to his usual voice. "I'm always attractive. And admit it, Swan, I _was _right. Behold, the work of your town's newest resident."

He swept an elegant arm outwards, encompassing the vast fields that lay before them. Thousands of bright green miniature beanstalks lined up in tidy rows, rippling in the slight morning breeze. Emma could see rain barrels at the ends of each row, and a new shed where none had been before, presumably for housing the gardening equipment. She bent down and gently parted the topmost leaves of one of the stalks. Even though she had been expecting them, her breath still caught at the beans glittering there. She scanned the fields. So many beans… It was astounding.

She rose and dusted her hands off on the sides of her jeans. Two pairs of male eyes followed the movement, but she didn't notice. "This is amazing. I can't believe the giant did all this in one day we were gone, it seems impossible."

Hook lazily drew his gaze back up to her face, which was lit in lovely profile by the sun. He quietly mocked himself for this rather whimsical observation. "Yes, well, beanstalk seedlings grow incredibly quickly. But that's not all the giant did that day. He also managed to rampage through town, almost kill your father, and destroy part of Main Street. Oh, and then shrink back to human size. Only after all that did he ally with the dwarves to plant the beanstalks. Quite an industrious fellow, actually. I rather like him."

Emma spun around. "Did you say he tried to kill David? Is he ok?" she demanded, panic creeping into her voice. She strode over to the pirate. "Please, Hook, is he all right?"

Hook reached up and ran his fingers down her cheek and neck, aware that Neal's eyes were burning a hole in the back of his head. He mentally grinned. "Emma, love, the Prince is fine. He was able to calm the giant, saving the town in typical hero fashion."

Emma signed in relief, closing her eyes for a moment, before she realized Hook was still speaking.

"Or so I heard. Having been locked up by your wonderful parents beforehand, I didn't actually see any of this happening. Luckily, I still have a friend or two in town," he implied mysteriously.

Emma was about to launch into another hundred questions, no doubt, but Neal couldn't stay silent any longer. "I bet you fifty bucks it was Smee, and he's not a friend. He's a slave."

Hook stepped away from Emma and had his sword in his hand in the blink of an eye. "Did you say something, cur? Were you speaking to yourself, because I can only assume you wouldn't be so stupid as to address Captain Hook in that tone of voice. Are you in need of another lesson, little Crocodile?"

He sliced through the air, inches from Neal's face. A warning shot.

Neal stumbled away from the deadly hiss of steel, then recovered his footing. And his attitude. "Wow, Captain Hook? No way, _the _Captain Hook? That's freaking amazing. I guess I'd better shut up now, because you're so awesome and everything. All the ladies must love it when you kill unarmed men. Why don't you give me a sword and we'll see who learns a lesson, you filthy coward?"

Emma looked at Neal's grim determination and Hook's transferred rage and felt she was having an out-of-body experience. It was not possible that they were having this testosterone party in a damn bean field. Men.

She stepped forward, putting herself in front of Hook's blade. "Shut up, Neal, you're not helping." She turned to look at the pirate, "Hook, this isn't the time or the place. If you two want to duke it out with your swords later, I really don't care. But for now, we are in the middle of a crisis, ok? So just keep it in your pants." She walked away without looking back. If they wanted to kill each other, so be it, but she had to see the damage to the town and find Henry.

Hook followed her movement, but his sword was unwavering. He looked at Neal who he found was staring at Emma. What kind of idiot looked at a woman instead of an attacking enemy? He exhaled, letting go of his anger. For now.

"You're lucky, boy. She just saved your life. _Again._ But our fight isn't over. Bring a sword, a bow, or ten wizards, it matters not. The result will be the same. In the end, I will kill you. And your father. Make no mistake of that." He sheathed his sword and stalked after Emma.

Neal unclenched his fists and also took several deep breaths. It was clear why he and Hook were fighting over Emma, but why did the pirate want to kill his father so badly? Granted, Rumplestiltskin had many enemies, but still… Neal set out at a quick pace after the couple, swearing that he would get all the answers from his father himself some day.

XXXXX

Emma surveyed the destruction of Main Street with a grudging and bewildered admiration. "Seriously. In the one day I'm gone?"

Hook shrugged, then offered gallantly, "Life falls apart here without you, angel."

Neal snorted. Loudly.

Hook glared.

Emma paid them no attention as she looked down the deep chasm where David had apparently saved the giant's life. She felt a touch of pride in her father. He was a good, kind man, unlike her present company.

She leaned a bit too far over the hole and her shoe scuffed against the edge, sending down a shower of crumbling rock. Hook's arm came around her waist and his breath tickled her ear. "Careful, darling." She couldn't help herself, she shivered. Then she pushed him away and stepped back from both dangers.

Neal glared.

Hook grinned devilishly.

And Emma took a deep, cleansing breath, looking up into the sky for any assistance divine power could provide. It was then that she noticed the thick black cloud of smoke rising from behind a row of buildings.

"Fire!" she yelled, already sprinting towards the flames, and it was all the two men could do to keep up with her.

When they arrived on the scene, they saw the heat and flames roll off the Mayor's Office in waves as smoke billowed from all the windows. The one question ricocheting through Emma's mind was: what if Henry was in there? She dived towards the open door, only to be yanked backwards by a fistful of her jacket.

"Are you crazy?" Neal yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

She tried pulling away, then stopped struggling as she heard a familiar voice shouting nearby. Other people were beginning to arrive, including the police and fire departments that launched into a flurry of activity. They were herded to a safer distance just as Mary Margaret ran up to them and hugged Emma tightly.

"You're back, thank goodness." She pulled back and gasped when she saw Emma's injuries. "My poor girl, what happened to your face?" She stroked Emma's cheek.

Emma took her mother's hand and moved it away gently. "I'm fine, it looks worse than it feels. But, more importantly, where's Henry?"

"He's safe!" Mary Margaret reassured her. "With his grandfather."

"Which one?" asked Emma thoughtlessly, and her mother looked at her astonished.

Emma swore under her breath, and hurried to explain. "It's a long story. We'll have to talk about it later, ok? Please."

Mary Margaret still seemed disturbed by the sudden news, but agreed. "Yes, first thing's first. What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. I saw the fire from a few streets over and came running. We only just got here."

"We?" Mary Margaret noticed her daughter's companions for the first time. Captain Hook, doubtless up to no good, and a man she'd never seen before. He did seem a bit familiar, though, the more she studied him. Could this be Gold's long-lost son?

Before she could carry that thought any further, Hook thrust himself before her and took her hand. Kissing the knuckles and winking up at her, he said, "Milady, looking radiant as ever."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes and tugged at her hand. "Hook," she acknowledged, but directed the rest of her question at Emma. "Why on earth is he here with you?"

Emma stepped forward and gave the pirate a shove, and he tangled himself in the police tape that had been drawn around the perimeter of the building.

"That's a long story, too."

A scream broke free from the roaring fire, interrupting them. Startled, they looked around through the crowd to see who was in trouble. They saw one of the firefighters staggering out the front door of the building, encumbered by his gear. He didn't seem injured, but the terror on his face was impossible to miss. Emma blinked, sure that she was seeing things, because it almost looked like the fire was pursuing him.

A line of flames snaked out around the firefighter's feet, encircling him. The rest of his team came charging forward but he waved them back. The flames flared, shifting colors from the normal red, orange and yellow, to an unnatural poison green. The firemen fell back.

"No… What the hell?" Emma exclaimed, thoroughly confused. She glanced at her mother who wore a horrified expression.

"Oh no," Mary Margaret echoed her thoughts. "No, it can't be."

"That psychotic witch," Hook was rubbing at his chin, then glanced at the lone fireman in the column of flames. "That poor bastard."

Only Neal was silent, staring unblinking at the chaos. He looked neither scared nor surprised, just resigned.

"Neal," Emma said, "Tell me what you know. We have to help that guy."

He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. "We can't help, Emma, not with this." He looked sad and a bit angry now. "This is the way it is with magic, don't you understand? There's always a price! And it's almost always paid in blood…" he trailed off.

The crowd scattered amidst yelling and general panic as more columns of fire funneled out of the building in all directions. Glass in nearby structures and parked cars shattered from the heat.

Emma shielded her eyes, then shook Neal's shoulder. "Snap out of it, Neal! Tell me what the hell is going on _right now!"_

He opened his mouth to reply, but Hook beat him to it.

"It's a salamander, Swan. She's let loose a salamander."

Emma looked shocked, "Regina sent a salamander to burn down her own office? Why would she do that?"

"No," said Mary Margaret. "Not Regina. It must have been Cora, she's the only one with enough power. And I think it's a message."

Emma tried to keep one eye on the fire and one on her mother, but Mary Margaret was scanning the horizon. "There."

They looked over in time to see a piercing flash of bright white light in the distance that quickly faded to nothing. "A beanstalk portal. They're not coming back."

Emma tried to digest this information. Regina and Cora had gone back to the Enchanted Realms, but why? She couldn't imagine Regina leaving Henry willingly. Which just meant that the two women were plotting something further. She was getting a headache just imagining all the possibilities.

"Well, we're going to have to figure that out later. Right now we have to help that guy," she repeated. One step at a time.

"Are you insane, Emma? You can't fight a salamander. They can't be hurt or killed, only trapped. When it's unleashed, encircled by its own flames, it's basically unstoppable. It can burn with just a look!"

"It's not burning the firefighter," she pointed out to Neal.

"That's because salamanders like to play with their prey." Mary Margaret looked grim. "But you're right, Emma, we have to help."

"You're both insane!" Neal reached out as if to grab Emma but pulled his hand back at the last moment. "Look, I know you're the sheriff here, but you really don't stand a chance. Only the eastern firemages had ways of controlling salamanders, and even they got killed all the time. You can't stop it with a sword, you need incredibly strong magic."

Emma stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Go get your father! We'll hold it off as long as we can." And with that, both women were off running toward the lashing flames.

Neal stood there a moment, dumbfounded, but Hook merely crossed his arms and stared after Emma approvingly. "Crazy wench," he said fondly. "So damn heroic, it makes me sick." He turned and clapped Neal heartily on the shoulder. "I think I'm quite in love with her." And then he was off as well, leaving poor Neal white as a sheet.

XXXXX

As Emma dodged a fireball for the fifth or sixth time in as many minutes, each missing her by less and less distance, she wondered if maybe Neal had been right about the whole not fighting a salamander thing.

It had been apparent right from the start that they had no way of confronting the monster outright, so the women devised a plan whereby Emma would distract it and draw its attention while Mary Margaret and the rest of the firefighters worked to save their trapped comrade. Mary Margaret had insisted on distracting the salamander herself, but Emma had ended the argument in her usual direct manner by sprinting through the disintegrating open doors, leaving her mother screaming at her from outside.

She admitted that she hadn't thought this whole thing through properly, sidestepping yet another rolling ball of flames and debris. She couldn't see the salamander itself very clearly. It was a mere suggestion of a large, writhing shape behind a curtain of purple fire in one corner of the room. But Emma could see its yellow eyes clearly through the smoke, so she knew it was there and that she had its attention.

It sent smaller pillars of fire after her as it had the firefighters, but she proved too quick and agile. So it switched to fireballs from all directions, and those were getting harder to dodge.

She dared take a moment to glance behind her. Mary Margaret had directed the men to turn the hose on both her and their trapped partner. The water was not able to put out the salamander's magic-fueled fire, but it appeared to at least give enough protection that Mary Margaret was able to yank the man out of his prison. They toppled backward and the crowd gave a cheer.

Emma signed in relief. That was one crisis down, at least. But her moment of inattention cost her. A fireball caught her mid-shin and not only did she fall, but she had to desperately grind her legs into the ashes on the floor put out stubborn flames clinging to her jeans. The salamander, essentially a reclusive and cowardly creature, sensed its victim's weakness and finally advanced from its shadowy corner.

The floorboards creaked and cracked under the weight of the monster, for its size had grown proportionally with the fire. Steam billowed from its nostrils as it slowly made its way over to Emma. It was a black lizard the size of a bull, with six legs and a long lashing tail. Fire danced along the whole length of the creature, shifting all the colors of the rainbow.

"You're beautiful," Emma whispered. "And I'm going to die."

She rolled onto her knees then painstakingly climbed to her feet using a table for support. She was lightheaded from the smoke and knew she couldn't evade the creature much longer.

Suddenly, something whirled out of the darkness to land at the salamander's front feet. It hissed and recoiled from the object as if in pain. Several more of the curious objects rained down around the creature, driving it back towards its corner. One fell close enough for Emma to see. It was… a starfish? She reached out to touch it and ran a finger over the rough texture of its surface and its many arms one by one. She closed her eyes and imagined herself on the shore of a lonely beach, watching a storm roll in over the sea. She could feel the sting of raindrops on her skin and taste the violence of the wind and lightning. The sand grew slick beneath her feet and she slipped beneath the water into the waves…

"Emma!"

She opened her eyes with a gasp, coughing as if to clear her lungs of water, but there was only smoke. Hook was crouching beside her, holding her hand and drawing it away from the starfish.

She coughed again, then croaked, "I thought you had left."

"Well, of course I did! I don't carry magical starfish around in my pocket, you know. I'm always just happy to see you," he winked at her, then wrapped an arm around her back and hauled her to her feet. "It won't hold for long. We have to get out of here."

Emma let her head loll against his shoulder a moment while she gathered her strength. "Thank you," she murmured in his ear.

They staggered towards the light. "None of that now, lass. You can thank me properly later. When we're not at death's doorstep and when you're wearing far less clothing."

She chuckled, then fell into deep, wracking coughs, stumbling at the threshold. Hook looked down at her with worry and silently took more of her weight.

They had just cleared the doors and were breathing slightly cleaner air when a great explosion from within shook the building. They fell as the salamander poked its head out after them. When had it gotten so fast?

"It's angry," Hook said as if reading Emma's thoughts. He got to his feet and pulled Emma up with him. "Nothing for it then, love." He drew his sword and stared up at the creature.

Emma glanced at it, then over at Hook. "I thought swords don't work against salamanders."

He nodded briskly. "True enough. But I insist on dying with my sword in my hand." He leveled it at the monster, as if preparing for a duel rather than the forthcoming barbeque.

"Crazy pirate," Emma said fondly, then drew herself up to her full height and stood alone with the last of her strength. "Guess this is it. I'm going to miss my kid." Someone in the crowd screamed, and Emma thought it might be her mother.

Just then, a piercing whistle drew everyone's attention to the slim older man hobbling across the street, cane in hand. In one smooth motion, he rolled a small black ball under the salamander. Instantly, the creature collapsed in on itself, drawing the fire and heat of the inferno in like a black hole until nothing was left but ashes and smoke. Out of this skittered a ruby red lizard the size of Emma's palm.

She watched it dart straight into the ball that Gold had thrown. But no, it wasn't a ball at all, more like a rock of some sort.

"A magma sphere," Gold said as he walked over to them and picked up the rock. "It's the only thing that will hold a salamander. "Lucky I just happened to have one." He grinned, then noticed Hook's sword was now pointed directly at his throat. "Well, boy, we meet again." He seemed unconcerned as he tucked the black sphere away into a pocket.

"Crocodile," Hook spat. "Indeed, it must be luck that brought you here before me. Now I can finally finish this!"

"Can you?" Gold raised an eyebrow, then turned to speak to Emma. "You don't look well at all, dearie." He turned back to Hook. "Not well at all."

Just then, Emma's strength deserted her and she felt all the effects of the firefight all at once. She could barely breathe from all the smoke in her lungs, and her skin felt hot all over.

Hook struggled to hold her upright while keeping his sword trained on Gold. The older man said nothing, merely folded his hands over the top of his cane and waited.

Emma's knees buckled and Hook swore, dropping his sword and picking Emma up in his arms. With one last venomous look in Gold's direction, Hook growled, "This isn't over, Crocodile." Then he walked away.

Gold laughed quietly behind him, "Really, Jones, what kind of fool looks at a woman instead of an enemy?"

Hook felt almost undone by his wrath, but bowed his head and carried on without turning back. He could see several people running to meet him, including Mary Margaret.

He laid Emma down on the grass as she was coming to. She groaned and put a hand to her head. "Oh my God, did I actually pass out?" She coughed again and again, and her palm became coated with black saliva and blood. "That can't be good," she stared at her hand a moment longer.

"You'll live," Hook said tersely.

She looked up at him, but didn't have a chance to comment before Mary Margaret kneeled beside her, soaking wet, and fiercely hugged the small amount of air she had left right out of her lungs.

"Emma, you had me so worried! Why do you keep doing that?" She hugged her daughter again.

"I'll be fine," Emma rasped. "I just need some water. And air."

"You'll need more than that, young lady! You're going to the hospital."

It was a testament to how crappy Emma felt that she didn't argue. Before she could get up, however, a small hurricane launched itself into her arms, hugging her even tighter than Mary Margaret.

"Mom!" Henry cried, and Emma closed her eyes, feeling a profound sense of relief wash over her. Her son was all right. Everything would be all right.

She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was the utter shock on Neal's face as he looked down at the two of them.

Time to pay the Piper.

XXXXX

Hook and David made an unlikely pair as they sat outside Emma's recovery room. She had been given oxygen to clear out her lungs, and it had certainly worked if the level of noise coming from within the room was any indication. After the first few failed attempts, nurses stopped coming by to try to quiet down the argument. Perhaps owing to David's presence, they deemed it wiser to move the patients from adjoining rooms instead and leave their Prince's family in peace. Relatively speaking.

One particularly loud crash was followed by a moment of silence.

"Think she's finally killed him?" Hook asked, casually cleaning his nails with the sharp tip of his other 'hand'.

David looked at him in disgust. "_Why _are you even here?"

"Just looking out for my interests, your Highness. Your daughter owes me a favor, and it wouldn't do for her to be injured and unable to repay the debt." His cocky grin grew uneasy under David's steady glare.

"And just what sort of favor do you think she owes you?" the Prince asked with a deceptively even tone.

The calm before the storm, Hook thought to himself. Proceed with caution.

"Er, that is, how shall I say… yet to be determined, Highness. We shall settle the matter once she is well."

More glaring. "Oh will you?" A pause. "In case you've failed to notice, pirate, this town is in the middle of some serious trouble. Trouble that you had a not inconsiderable hand in bringing to our shores, need I remind you? So perhaps you should pack up your ship and sail away before it occurs to me you would be better off in a dungeon."

"A dungeon, Highness? They have those here?"

"I will build one just for you."

Hook swallowed. "I see. Well, Highness, the fact remains that I… That is to say, your daughter and I-"

David held up a hand to silence Hook's rambling. The conversation in the room had started up again. Both men quietly leaned toward the door, differences temporarily set aside by unspoken agreement.

"How could you not tell me, Emma? I mean, he's my son! You don't keep something like that from a guy!"

"I wanted to tell you, Neal! For nine long months in jail I wanted to tell you about the baby I was carrying. Then for months afterward, I wanted to cry with you and tell you about the beautiful boy I had to give up. Then for the following ten years, I didn't even want to acknowledge Henry's existence to myself. It was too painful and I was trying to get my life together. When he came to me though, all of that pain and doubt went away. He belongs in my life; I can't imagine it without him. But by that point, you'd been gone forever and a day, and all I wanted to tell you if I ever saw you again was to go to hell."

Hook grinned and nearly fell off his chair he was leaning so close to the door. "That's it, lass! You tell him."

David gave him an odd look but said nothing.

"Emma," Neal sighed. "You know why I left. I told you already."

"Yeah, apparently Pinocchio threatened you and you ran away."

"No! Damn it, that's not what happened. Well, yes, ok, he did know who I was and that wasn't exactly information I wanted getting around, but that's not why I stayed away. He said you had a destiny to fulfill, something incredibly important that would affect a lot of people's lives. How could I get in the way of that? God knows I was a crappy influence on you. Hadn't I ruined your life enough?"

"Apparently not, because then you let me go to prison and have a baby all alone!"

"I didn't know about the baby! How could I? If I had, well, things would have gone down differently."

"Maybe, but they didn't. And now the fact remains that Henry thinks his dad died a hero."

"What? The kid thinks I'm dead? What the hell, Emma!" Neal exploded.

"What did you want me to tell him," Emma shot back, "the truth? That his daddy was a two-bit petty crook who knocked me up when I was eighteen then set me up and left me to rot in jail?"

"That wasn't what happened!"

"Well that's what I thought happened for over ten years. So I spared our son that, ok?"

Neal stopped pacing. "Our son… I can't believe we have a son. We have to tell him, Emma. Now."

She sighed. "I know we do. I just don't know how."

"The way we should have done everything with him all along. Together."

Neal came outside and spoke to David. "Could you please go get your wife and Henry? We need to talk." He ignored Hook completely and shut the door behind him as he walked back into the room.

David rose to go, then hesitated. "It's not any of my business, really, but I can't help but notice your hand on your sword."

Hook glanced down and was surprised to see the white-knuckled grip he had on the hilt of his sword. He forced himself to let go, then looked away.

David walked on but his voice carried back. "Don't do anything stupid."

Hook stood suddenly and kicked a garbage can across the lobby. He then debated whether or not impaling the Crocodile's son on the tip of his sword before flinging him out the window could be considered stupid. Deciding that it probably could, he went to take a long walk to cool his temper, though he did not know why he was so angry.

XXXXX

Emma found Hook a few hours later standing in what had been a glorious bean field just that morning. Now, there was nothing but razed earth as far as the eye could see. Not a plant, not so much as a single bean had been spared. The devastation was complete.

Hook bent down and sieved a handful of dirt through his fingers. "Salted. Nothing will grow here again." He sighed. "What a bitch of a day."

"The giant?" Emma questioned at last.

"Gone. Probably kidnapped."

"Do you think they killed him?"

Hook thought on that a moment. "No. The last giant? He's far too valuable for them to kill. They'll need him to farm more beans later on." He rose and put his arm around Emma's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Swan, I know your people needed these beans. But at least no one died. That's a good thing, right? And fairly rare in one of Cora's fights, truth be told."

She said nothing, just continued to look across the barren fields. She seemed… sad, and that didn't sit right with Hook at all. He preferred her excited, passionate, determined, and aye, even angry. Sometimes, _especially _angry. She should never look sad, like the world kicked her puppy.

He steeled himself. "How did the conversation with your son go?"

She looked down. "Not well. I'm pretty sure he hates me now."

"What? That's impossible. Swan, you're his mother, of course he doesn't hate you. He's just angry, but he'll get over it. Kids are resilient. I'm sort of an expert." He smiled wryly, then frowned when he noticed tears running down her face. "Are you crying?" Of course she was crying, stupid question. Somehow, he didn't think her capable, and therefore he was quite at a loss.

Her pain was palpable; he could feel it as if it was his own. He gathered her in his arms and tried to sooth away her misery by whispering nonsensical things he hoped she wouldn't remember later. He might have mentioned love.

She cried soundlessly, which somehow made it all the harder to watch, but soon she stopped. Leaning against his shoulder, she said, "He said I was like Regina, that she lied to him all the time because she thought it was best for him. I don't want to be like that."

"Emma, you're nothing like Regina. Henry knows that, he was just lashing out. Kids do that with people they know will still love them afterwards. Trust me, he'll probably be so happy to realize he still has a father that he'll forget about his anger. Just give him time to settle."

She dried her eyes with a Kleenex she fished out of her pocket. "You're probably right." She looked at him from under wet lashes. "You can be surprisingly kind, Killian."

Hook nearly groaned. He adored the way she said his name, and felt sorry he was about to destroy the moment. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat. "You might not think so after hearing what I have to say, Swan."

Emma was immediately on guard. "I'm listening," she said warily.

"Well…" Hook cleared his throat again. "You still owe me, Swan, and I think it's time to call in the favor."

Her jaw dropped. "Now? You seriously think _now _is a good time for whatever perverted frolic you've got in mind?"

Hook's train of thought immediately derailed. "Frolic? What are you… Oh. Oh!" He started laughing and Emma did not appreciate that at all. "You thought I was going to have you do something like that as payment?"

"Well, yes." Emma flushed, though whether in embarrassment or anger, Hook couldn't tell. "Weren't you?"

Hook, still grinning, looped an arm around her waist and kissed her soundly. Salty and sweet. Perfection. He pulled away. "No offense, darling, but I don't really think I need to play that particular card, do I?" He winked at her.

After the way she responded to that kiss, Emma had to admit he was right. Not out loud though, of course.

"Fine, then, what _do _you want?" she demanded.

She sounded adorably grumpy, but Hook did not think it would be safe to point that out. "Come away with me," he said simply, "to Neverland."

Emma stared at him. "What?"

Hook soldiered on. "As repayment for my earlier favor (another wink), I want you to sail with me to Neverland. I have business there. I've decided to put my revenge against the Crocodile on hold for now in light of… circumstances; however, I still have much to take care of at home. And I could use your help. And companionship." At this, he looked away.

Emma was having a hard time processing this information. "You want me to abandon the town in the middle of this crisis to go help you kill Peter Pan?"

Hook scowled. "Who said anything about killing Pan? I mean, if you _want _to kill Pan, I'm certainly not going to stop you, but that's not what I'm talking about. At any rate, Cora's gone from here. Regina's gone, too. They're back in my world, probably scheming away. Look at this as your opportunity to keep an eye on them."

"I'm not leaving my son."

"I never thought you would. The boy is welcome on the Jolly Roger. A life at sea might even toughen the boy up a bit! Don't get so defensive, I'm just saying. And he should see his homeland, wouldn't you agree?"

Emma peered at Hook. "You've really thought this through."

He agreed that he had.

She started pacing up and down the ruined rows, weighing her options, piecing together a plan. She paused. "You know, I can't believe you're asking me this."

He smirked and the diamond in his ear glinted in the sunlight. "Oh, I'm not asking, my love."

She kicked a clod of dirt at him. "Insufferable ass." She resumed her pacing, and when she finally turned to look at him again, her evil grin had him worrying.

"Just how many people can your ship hold, Hook?"

XXXXX

In the end, once she had Hook's grudging cooperation the rest of the townspeople were relatively easy to convince. Emma called a meeting and explained her idea. Since the bean fields were now destroyed and the giant kidnapped, people would have to decide whether or not to leave Storybrooke, possibly forever. She made it clear that they could either travel on Hook's ship or not, but that there would be no guarantee of coming or going thereafter.

Most of the townsfolk decided to return home to the Enchanted Realms, though a fair number chose to stay and make Storybrooke their permanent home, especially since the threat of Regina was gone. When they learned Emma was going, David and Mary Margaret immediately decided they would as well. David was suspicious of the shady pirate captain's secret hold over his daughter, and he was determined to keep an eye on him. Mary Margaret was quicker on the uptake and realized it wasn't very much of a secret at all. She wasn't entirely comfortable with that knowledge, but she trusted her daughter.

The only hiccup came when Emma insisted that Gold come with them.

"Don't you realize you're the only one that can stop whatever plan Cora and Regina are cooking up?" she argued.

Gold scoffed. "Are you laboring under some sort of misapprehension, Ms. Swan? Let me be clear, I do not care about stopping Cora and Regina. It's not my problem. What I need to do now is figure out how to get Belle's memory back and I need to do that in Storybrooke. I can't risk moving her and I'll not leave without her. I'll find a way back for us after I've figured things out here."

What could she say to that?

Most surprising of all perhaps was Neal's decision to stay with his father.

"He needs me," he told Emma and Henry privately. "He's never asked for my help before but he has now and I owe it to him. To both of us, really." He caressed Henry's hair. "Do you understand, kiddo?"

Henry thought about it and decided that he did. But he was still angry at Emma and asked if he could stay behind as well. At Emma's ashen look, Neal hurried to say, "But then who's going to look after your mother on the pirate ship? I need you to be the man of the family until I get there."

Whether it was his father's faith in him or the thought of sailing on a real life pirate ship that did it, Henry's mind was made up. "I won't let you down!"

He ran off to pack, singing something about a bottle of rum and a dead man's chest that had Emma thinking she'd need to lay down some _major _ground rules with Hook.

Neal scuffed his shoe through the grass. Emma looked over at him and said, "Thank you. I know that could have gone a lot worse. You really helped me out."

He shrugged. "It was the least I could do. Don't get me wrong, Emma, I want to be with my son, too, but I need to help my father first. I need to fix my past before I can concentrate on the future, you know?"

She nodded, "I do." She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Come on, walk with me."

XXXXX

Emma and Neal sat on a park bench at the end of the pier where the Jolly Roger was docked. They listened to the gulls crying overhead and the waves slapping against the rocks in a rare moment of companionable silence.

Neal watched as a gull landed, seemingly on nothing, and began preening its feathers midair. "Invisible pirate ship?"

"Yup," Emma confirmed.

"Huh," Neal said. "Well, not the strangest thing we've ever seen."

Emma smiled. "Not even the strangest thing we've seen today."

Neal nodded absently and they fell silent again as a few stragglers came to board the ship. Most folk were already on board.

Dr. Hopper came leading Pongo and carrying an old-fashioned carpet bag and a black umbrella hooked over one arm. He raised his hat to them as he passed until Pongo nearly jerked him into the water as he sniffed out then bounded up the invisible gangplank.

Emma wondered how Hook would take to a dog on board.

Red and Granny came next, seeming eager to get on board. Emma remembered that Red had been one of the strongest supporters of returning to the Enchanted Lands. She hoped the girl would feel more herself there. Red and Granny both waved at Emma, but their good cheer faltered when they noticed who she was sitting with. They averted their eyes and hurried toward the edge of the pier where Red felt around for the walkway.

Neal sighed. "They hate me already."

"They don't hate you, they-"

"Fear me?"

Emma chewed her bottom lip. This was a touchy subject. "Well, yes. I guess they do. You need to give them time to get to know you. Right now, they only see Rumplestiltskin's son. They'll come around when you meet up with us."

Neal looked down at his folded hands. "We'll see."

Emma was about to respond when Red came back down the wooden walkway. She looked at her watch and scanned the docks as if she was waiting for someone. Her attention was caught by a lone figure jogging down the path to the harbor, large rucksack bouncing with every stride. Red broke into a wide smile, all sharp teeth and happiness, as Dr. Whale caught up with her and drew her into a tight embrace.

Emma felt slightly uncomfortable witnessing the display and she noticed Neal staring at a button on his sleeve with far more attention than it deserved.

The couple finally drew apart and started walking hand in hand up the gangplank, but then separated before they reached the top. The last thing Emma saw before they disappeared was Red looking over her shoulder with a finger held to pursed lips. Then she winked and was gone.

Emma grinned. A secret werewolf romance. Hook would like this even less than the dog, not that she was going to be the one to tell him.

"They look happy," Neal said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yeah, they really do. I never would have figured it though. He's not even from her world."

"But they found each other anyway. They're lucky."

His voice held a touch of jealousy and Emma felt momentary regret for how their lives had turned out now that she knew the truth. In a different life, with no fairy tale interference, she could have loved this man. They could have raised their child together and been happy as a family.

She reached over and took his hand. She felt his eyes on her, but she stared resolutely ahead at nothing in particular.

"Don't you have anyone, Neal? Back in New York? A girlfriend, maybe, or a lover?"

"No," Neal said hurriedly. "Of course not. I mean, I wouldn't… I couldn't…" He tried again. "There've been some women over the years, but never anyone serious. I haven't loved anyone since-" he stopped.

There was a slight hopefulness in his tone that Emma recognized. A hope that in spite of everything, things might still work out. She was familiar with that hope, and she felt bad for what she was about to do.

She squeezed his hand, then let it go. She heard him sigh and take a deep breath. His lingering touch pulled away until she could no longer feel it at all. In stillness and silence, they came to an understanding and the moment was gone.

Neal stood up briskly, clearing his throat. "Now what?"

Emma spied one last black-clad figure sauntering up the pier. "Now," she said loud enough for the pirate to hear, "it's time to go. Since our Captain has finally decided to grace us with his presence."

She gave Neal a quick hug. "See you on the other side. Take care of yourself." She walked to the gangplank, calling "Let's go!" to Hook on the way before disappearing.

Hook raised an eyebrow at the display but said nothing. He turned to follow her.

"Wait," Neal barked. "A moment, if you will."

Hook stopped and turned around, allowing Neal to catch up to him.

"Yes, little Crocodile? You have something _else _you wish to share?" He grinned.

Neal gritted his teeth. "Listen, scum, for whatever unfathomable reason, Emma likes you. And if you're smart," he swallowed hard, "you'll never give her a reason to change her mind."

Surprised, Hook's hand dropped from his sword hilt where it had a tendency to wander. He had been sure the other man would simply threaten him. Instead, this was… unexpected.

"Yes, well… I'll see to it she's well taken care of on the voyage." His sharp gaze slid sideways. "And after."

Neal's tone was flat and unapologetic. "You'd better, or I'll kill you myself."

Ah, there it was. The anticipated threat. Now this was more familiar ground!

The two men squared off, glaring at each other with hackles raised. Hook was just starting to draw his sword when he heard Emma's voice call down from the deck asking, nay, demanding that he hurry. Such a feisty lass! They'd do well together.

Hook smiled, placed one booted foot against Neil's abdomen and sent the man sailing into the drink with a satisfyingly loud splash.

"Coming!" he cried, and strode jauntily up the walkway.

XXXXX

Hook stopped dead and took in the chaos on his deck. His crew, or what there was left of it, was readying the ship for departure, and townspeople milled about everywhere getting in the way. And was that a dog?!

He reached up to rub his temples. Why, by Neptune, had he ever agreed to all this in the first place?

He lowered his hand and caught sight of Emma standing with her back to the sun talking with Henry. The fading light shot through her hair and set the red leather jacket she wore ablaze.

Ah, yes. Now he remembered.

She reached up to brush aside her wind-tangled hair and for a moment, Hook saw another woman standing there, tossing back her curls in a movement that was painfully familiar. He heard her laughter echo all around him and shut his eyes against the memories.

Damn, would he never be rid of her ghost?

But then he opened his eyes and just as quickly, Milah was gone. He saw only Emma, with her arm around the boy pointing at things around the deck, talking, smiling, rebuilding. Now there was a woman that would never abandon her family. A woman of honor with a purity of soul he had never before encountered. She was beautiful both inside and out, and far more than he deserved.

He shook his head. "Getting soft in my old age," he chided himself out loud.

Then Emma shrugged off her jacket, throwing it over a nearby barrel. Hook took in her lovely curves and grinned appreciatively. "Well, not all of me!"

"Ahoy there, lad," he called out to Henry as he walked over to join them. "How would you like to give Mr. Smee a hand at the wheel while I have a private word with your mother?"

The boy lit up like a firework, already running towards a bewildered-looking Smee. "That'd be super awesome!"

Hook reached out and brushed aside a blonde strand of hair. "Indeed it would." He drew her hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

"Hook," Emma warned, though she did not pull her hand away. "Not in public."

He leered at her. "Right you are, darling. Let's finish this in my quarters."

Louder then, in a commanding voice that carried to the furthest corners of the ship, he shouted, "Everyone to their stations. Mr. Smee, prepare to set sail!"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Smee squeaked excitedly.

His Captain took no notice of his reply and instead drew Emma a step closer.

"Next stop, Neverland!" Smee cried.

Applause broke out on deck and people scrambled to get a good view of the launch.

Hook was about to steal a quick kiss in the chaos when Henry came running by carrying a compass. "Cool! I can't wait to meet Peter Pan!"

As Hook swore and dropped his head into his hand, Emma laughed, feeling lighter than she could remember. It wasn't Happily Ever After, but for the moment, it was close enough.

XXENDXX


End file.
